


Yarders Find Out

by MidnightMonster



Series: Johnlock and the Yarders [1]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, BAMF John, Hurt John Watson, John in Afghanistan, Johnlock - Freeform, M/M, Married Sherlock Holmes/John Watson, POV Greg, POV Third Person, Protective John, Yarders, yarders find about Sherlock and John
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-13
Updated: 2016-11-13
Packaged: 2018-08-30 19:28:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,569
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8546170
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MidnightMonster/pseuds/MidnightMonster
Summary: How the yarders or more specifically Greg gets to know about Sherlock's soldier husband, John Watson who had been in Afghanistan for a little bit more than two and a half years.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Just a one-shot from Greg's point of view about how he gets to know (about) John.
> 
> I tried to write them in carachter, but I don't really feel like I succeeded, so sorry about that.
> 
> Anyway, enjoy!:)

"You will find your murderer tonight in the bar which is closest to his home. He will probably be drinking the second cheapest wine and will be sitting at the bar, chasing off every person who attempts to chat him up. He will be so full of guilt that even you won't have a problem catching him." Sherlock said and was about to turn around and leave the scene when Lestrade stopped him.

 

"Hold on! Won't you be there?" 

 

"I have more important matters to attend than catch you an amateur, inspector." The younger man said with a tone that left no place to further discussion. Greg frowned at that but before he could speak Sherlock had already hailed a cab and was leaving in it.

 

Lestrade bit into his lip in worry. The last time Sherlock refused a case he was on drugs, but Greg hadn't seen any of the symptoms that would say that the young genius was using again. 

 

So that probably wasn't it. But then what?

 

□□□

 

The next day Greg was debating with himself about calling Sherlock. 

 

The murderer yesterday had gotten away by lashing out and smashing a bottle on the top of the head of an officer. Greg stayed behind to make sure that his team member was alright since it was his responsibility. 10 minutes later just when the ambulance arrived he got a call from Sally -who had chased after their suspect with a few other officers- telling him that he got away.

 

Now it was late afternoon and they had tried to locate the suspect again, but no matter where they looked they hadn't found any clues which would tell them about his whereabouts, they had nothing to go on. 

 

Greg was really not keen to hear all the insults about their intelligence from Sherlock who would sure as hell say something as soon as he learned that they had failed.

 

But the job had to be done so with great reluctance Lestrade sent a message.

 

He looked up from his phone when he heard Donovan scoff. 

 

"I can't believe you are callinh the freak again." She rolled her eyes.

 

Lestrade wanted to say something about the name calling but in the end he didn't. He had learned a long time ago that no matter what he said Donovan wouldn't stop. That was quite irritating but after a while he just ignored it and let Sherlock deal with it with his own way.

 

"Well, if you have any idea where should we look, I am all ears." Greg said and pulled one eyebrow up.

 

Donovan opened and closed her mouth a few times but there was no answer. She glared at the phone in Lestrade's hands then turned around and left.

 

"Thought so." He mumbled and looked down to see a new text.

 

15 minutes. -SH

 

□□□

 

Half an hour later Sherlock showed up in his office and was asking for the case file. Lestrade sent Sally to get it from Anderson.

 

As soon as they were alone in the office Greg cringed mentally and waited for the insults from Sherlock to start but surprisingly he said nothing. Now that was strange.

 

"What?" Sherlock asked. He probably noticed that Greg was staring at him expectantly. 

 

At this he quickly focused on the pen in his hand as he rumbled. "Nothing, just, um, you know-"

 

"Oh for God's sake Lestrade spit it out already." Sherlock said with a sharp tone.

 

"Okay, okay. I am just suprised that you haven't insulted us yet." He said and scratched the back of his neck. "Not that that it's a problem, I am just curious about, well, why is that?"

 

Sherlock frowned and sat back in his chair and regarded him up and down, searching for something. "I have more important things to think of." He said with a blank face.

 

"Good, that's, um, good, I guess." Lestrade mumbled awkwardly. His mind immediately thinking about things that could distract Sherlock from their failure when a thought came to him. "Oh! Is this about what you did yesterday?" 

 

Sherlock's face was guarded as he answered. "Yes."

 

Greg upon hearing that tried to think about something that could have happened yesterday but nohing came to his mind.

 

Sherlock's annoyed sigh pulled him out of his thoughts. "I can almost see the wheels turning in your head, it's annoying. They are so slow and rusty. To save you from the difficult task of thinking I share it with you that yesterday I couldn't reach John on Skype."

 

"Who is John?" Lestrade asked, in all the two and a half years he had known Sherlock he had never heard of him. 

 

Sherlock rolled his eyes but had a fond look in them. "My husband, obviously."

 

There was a loud thump and Lestrade thought that his jaw had literally fallen off, but it was just Donovan who had dropped the case files in shock. She stared at Holmes with a disbelieving look, her mouth hanging open. Behind her, Anderson matched her expression. 

 

Unfortunately Donovan was the first who regained the ability to speak. 

 

She let out a mocking laugh. "You?" She pointed at Sherlock. "Are married?" 

 

"How do you think I have a husband?" Sherlock asked with a glare.

 

"And where is this 'John'? Why hadn't we met yet?" She asked with a smirk.

 

"He is currently overseas. He has been for little bit more than two and a half years." Sherlock said and Lestrade saw that he was clenhing his fists.

 

Anderson snorted. "You thought this well out freak. It's pathetic that you are so alone that you make things like this up. Who would want to be with you?" 

 

"Even if he is real he probably left because he couldn't be near to you." Sally sneered. 

 

"That's enough Donovan!" Lestrade said harshly. He glanced at Sherlock whose posture was tense and his mouth was in a thin line.

 

"But-"

 

"Get out!"

 

"Oh, come on-"

 

"I said OUT!" The two of them after that hurriedly shut the door and he heard their quick retreating steps. He would have smirked smugly, but he was more concerned of Sherlock in that moment.

 

The said man sat in the chair for a few seconds staring at nothing than, as if they had pushed a button, he was up and gathering the case file hastily. Meanwhile he was completely avoiding to look at him.

 

Greg felt bad for him, he knew that he needed to say something, anything, but he had no idea what. "Sherlock, I believe you." He said in the end, just before the man left. The consultant stopped in the doorway, his back facing the inspector.

 

"There is no need for unnecessary sentimental outbursts, Lestrade." Sherlock said in a deep voice. "Nevertheless thank you, I will know your suspect's location by tomorrow, so drop by the flat to pick up the file sometime, will you?" 

 

"Yeah, I'll be there." Greg said still lost for words.

 

"Good." With a nod Sherlock left.

 

Greg fell back into his chair, still tying to process what had just happened.

 

□□□

 

Next day it was in the late afternoon when Sherlock's kind landlady ushered him inside. She warned him to be patient with Sherlock since she heard the consulting detective pacing all night and he only stopped when the sun was already up.

 

Greg knocked on Sherlock's door and he only needed to wait a moment before the door was opened by a very tired looking Sherlock. His skin was paler and the dark circles under his eyes were more visible, his hair looked like he ran his and through it a hundred times. To put it nicely he looked like a mess. Like he was totally exhausted mentally.

 

"Lestrade." He nodded and frowned at him. "Ah, the file!" He realised. 

 

"Um, yes. Did you figure it out?" 

 

"Obviously." He said, but his voice lacked of its usual bite. He vanished into his room to get it.

 

Lestrade wandered into the living room and sat down onto the well worn sofa to wait.

 

He looked around the room and his eyes stopped on a leather-bound book. It was on the coffee table and it wasn't covered in dust like most of he surface in the flat. 

 

He battled with his inner self for a moment, but with a quick glance he reassured himself that Sherlock was still busy. 

 

He opened it and realised it wasn't a book. It was a photo album. Though there was a short writing on the first page with elegant handwriting.

 

_Happy anniversary._

_-Love, Mummy_

 

Greg looked at the first picture and he couldn't help feeling something warm in his chest as he stared at it.

 

Sherlock was around seven and he was hugging a blond boy around the neck tightly and the embrace was returned just as strongly. Both of them had splitting grins on their faces. Underneath the picture there was writing again in the same elegant style.

 

_Sherlock and John seven years old._

 

"Khm." Lestrade jolted from suprise when Sherlock cleared his throat.

 

He looked up and saw the young man with the case file in his hands staring at him with a pointed look.

 

"Sorry about it, I was just curious, I guess." He mumbled and put the album back down gently. 

 

Sherlock's eyes narrowed and he put the file down and picked up the album with care but also with a noticeable possessiveness.

 

"Next time, instead of invading into others' personal business, you should ask inspector." Sherlock's voice was cutting as he scolded.

 

"Sorry." He apologised again. "So you would tell me about him if I asked?"

 

"Try to keep up Lestrade, I hate repeating myself."

Sherlock threw himself down on the other end of the sofa and put his legs up onto the coffee table.

 

"Just wanted to make sure." Greg mumbled and he tried to contain his curiosity, but probably Sherlock saw right through him like always.

 

"So, you two were childhood friends." Sherlock nodded. "Were you two never seperated before he was shipped off?"

 

"We were." Sherlock said with a sour look. "At the beginning of our last year of high school they moved. However we went to the same university but by then John had already signed up to the army so he could pay for the medical school." 

 

"When did you two got together? When did you got married?" Lestrade asked more bravely. 

 

"We were together before they moved and we got married right before he was shipped off." Sherlock mummbled and pulled out a chain from underneath his shirt. On the end there was a simple gold band on it.

 

"How could I've never noticed it before?" Greg asked in disbelief. 

 

"I always covered it with my scarf, no need for you lot to see it."

 

"Why?" 

 

"My personal life is none of your business, though I would have told you if you had asked."

 

Greg couldn't help but feel hurt. He thought that Sherlock and him were close enough that they wouldn't leave the other one in the dark about such important things. 

 

"I got you into rehab and helped with your addiction. I thought we were at least friends, Sherlock." He cringed mentally at the cliché line but wanted some explanation. 

 

Sherlock snorted. "Sorry to brake it to you Lestrade but you had close to nothing to do with me getting into rehab."

 

"What? But then why did you go?"

 

"Mycroft said that if I get clean he would pull some strings and get John a two weeks long leave." Sherlock smiled, probably lost in a memory.

 

Lestrade cleared his throat feeling a bit uncomfortable. "So you couldn't reach him on Wednesday?" He asked and instantly scolded himself as he saw Sherlock's eyes darken and he could see worry in them.

 

"No and if something like this happens he usually writes a short email in the next 24 hours."

 

"I guess he didn't write this time, right?" Greg asked softly and watched as Sherlock hug the album closer to himself, probably searching for comfort.

 

"No." He whispered quietly and Lestrade cursed at himself for bringing it up when he heard the fear and worry in the younger man's voice.

 

He was thinking about what to say when Sherlock stood up suddenly. 

 

"Probably nothing had happened. They must have gotten into a nasty sand storm, nothing else." Sherlock said and it seemed like he was more like reassuring himself than talking to him.

 

"We have a killer to catch anyway." He said and was putting his coat on by then. "Hurry up Letrade!" He shouted back from the stairs.

 

Greg hastily went after him. He didn't want to let him out of his sight. He felt strangely protective of the consultant now that he had seen his vulnerable side.

 

□□□

 

"What the hell is he doing here?" Lestrade heard Sherlock literally growl as he approached his brother.

 

Greg glanced over at Sally who was taking statements from someone who had winessed Sherlock taking out the criminal with a well aimed punch to the chest. Seeing that everything was under control he went after Sherlock who just reached the older Holmes.

 

"What do you want Mycroft?" Sherlock hissed. 

 

The older one raised his eyebrows but then his expression turned into understanding. 

 

"I take it you didn't hear of Dr. Watson yet." All of the hostility was wiped off of Sherlock's face and only worry stayed. Though Greg could only see it in the detective's rigid posture.

 

"What happened Mycroft?" Sherlock asked and when his brother didn't answer immediately his control over his emotions loosened. "Damn it Mycroft! What do you know? Tell me!" He shouted and this time Lestrade could clearly hear the panic, fear and concern in it.

 

"Dr. Watson was wounded in action three days ago. Bullet to the shoulder, he had to dig it out by himself." Greg winced while Sherlock became paler. "He has been in a critical condition ever since but now they think it's safe enough to transfer him back."

 

Silence hang in the air, only Sherlock's short breaths could be heard. 

 

"Breathe, brother." Mycroft said and Greg saw a moment of sympathy and worry in his eyes before the mask was back. It made Greg wonder just how many Holmes' hearts did Dr. Watson managed to uncover over the years.

 

A few minutes later Sherlock had himself under contol again and without another word climbed into a sleek black car. As soon as the older one was in too they drove off, leaving Greg standing on the sidewalk with a terrible feeling in his stomach.

 

□□□

 

After one week of one sided texting he finally got an anwser from Sherlock about his whereabouts. 

 

When he arrived at Barts a kind nurse showed him the room. Upon entering he was gifted with a sight which was unusual but at the same time it didn't seem out of place either.

 

Sherlock Holmes, the so called sociopath, was resting beside a blond haired man on the bed. He was cuddled closely and both of his hands were clutching the duvet in a death grip while his head was resting on the man's stomach. His body apart from his hands was relaxed and he was breathing peacefully. This was the first time Lestrade had seen him asleep. 

 

His attention then wandered to the other man who was sitting up and was playing with Sherlock's hair with a fond look on his face. His left shoulder was heavily bandaged and there was an IV line in his arm. This must be John then. He thought to himself as he observed the man. His hair was in military cut and he had the same dark blue eyes he had seen on the pictures. His skin was tanned and his muscles, as expected, were well defined. He was handsome with his boyish face but all in all looked pretty average. He had no idea what held Sherlock's attention.

 

His observation was cut short by the man himself who noticed him and was now staring at him.

 

"Lestrade?" His voice was light and he had friendly smile on his face.

 

"Yes, Greg Letrade, and you must be Dr. John Watson then."

 

"John is fine." He offered.

 

"Just like Greg." John nodded and an awkward silence settled on them.

 

Greg was about to excuse himself, seeing that Sherlock was in good hands when Watson spoke up. 

 

"I wanted to say thank you for you letting him on cases. It's a good thing that he had a way to keep his mind busy while I was away."

 

"It's no problem, his deductions are quite useful." He didn't really know what to say.

 

John nodded and was about to say something else when he froze and pressed his mouth in a thin line. Greg at first worried that he was in pain but when he saw that the doctor was looking down at Sherlock he understood. Sherlock was shifting a little and both of them held their breath until he settled back.

 

"That was close." Watson mumbeld and resumed to play with the genius's hair. "He needs more than 2 hours sleep."

 

Greg frowned at that. "But he sent me a text less than an hour ago, how could he-"

 

"Oh, that was me." John srugged and winced. "He won't answer you because he says that he has no time for cases. I however thought that you were just worried."

 

"You are right." Greg sighed. "Last time I saw him he was on the verge of a panic attack." 

 

There was silence again but this time it was comfortable. "It's good to know that there were still people who cared about him while I was gone." John whispered quietly and then threw a smile at Lestrade. "Thanks for that too."

 

Greg smiled back and shrugged. "It's really nothing, he has grown on me."

 

"He has his own charm." He said.

 

"Yes, he-" Letrade was cut off by a text alert. He clumsily got his phone out and opened the message. "Shit, gotta go."

 

John frowned. "Everything alright?"

 

"Yes, just a murder. Sorry for leaving so soon-"

 

"No problem mate, have fun." John smirked at him. Greg bid goodbye with a friendly smile.

 

Just when he was outside of the hospital he stopped and thought about John's parting wish. 

 

Maybe there was more to John Watson after all.

 

□□□

 

2 months later he was waiting outside of a crime scene for Sherlock. Donovan was two steps away talking on the radio while Anderson was checking his camera. There were a few other officers around too.

 

In the past two months Sherlock didn't come to crime scenes, instead he asked Greg to bring the files to 221B. That wasn't so bad because while Sherlock was thinking about the case, he had time to get to know John. They had gotten on well, John was an easy going guy, he had a twisted kind of humor which somehow always succeed in making people laugh.

 

He was pulled out from his musings by the sight of Sherlock lifting the yellow tape up for John. Letrade couldn't help but notice that both of them were wearing their wedding rings.

 

He wasn't the only one who noticed. 

 

"No way." He heard Donovan say as she stared at the two in bewilderment. 

 

Anderon scoffed as they came closer. "Finally found an actor  who would show his face in public with a freak like you?" 

 

Letrade saw Donovan regain her composure and with a smirk she opened her mouth to no doubt say something cutting when she was abruptly shut up by a stern voice.

 

"I strongly advise  you to refrain from insulting my husband ever again or you will have bigger problems than dealing with a loveless marriage and deciding which of your lovers you should take more seriously." The soldier said and Lestrade could have sworn that in that moment John seemed a foot taller than Anderson with his icy stare. "There is no need for such immature insults just because you can't accept that he is smarter, fitter and more handsome than you. Plus that he has people in his life who genuinely love him." 

 

Lestrade couldn't help but feel awed by the soldier. Now he clearly saw that John Watson wasn't average. Hidden under those cozy jumpers and easy smiles was a man who was dangerous. A man who would kill without a second thought if it was needed. Right then that was not John, that was Captain Watson.

 

"Oh shit, you can do that thing too?" One of the officers asked and John rolled his eyes.

 

"I grew up with the Holmes family, don't you think I would pick up a few tricks." 

 

Then he grabbed Sherlock's hand and pulled him away. Sherlock had an equally smug and proud smile on his face as he followed John. 

 

As they reached him John's scold vanished and just like that he was smiling at Greg kindly. Lestrade shook his head in disbelief as he followed them inside. 

 

He had no idea if there would be less or more trouble with Sherlock now that he had John by his side.

 

However as he watched Sherlock deducing and John praising him, he realised he really didn't have to worry because whatever situation Sherlock Holmes would find himself in, John Watson would be there to save him.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading it and sorry for any grammar mistakes.  
> Feedbacks are welcomed by the way!


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